


Changes

by TheBeastsWrite



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Blow Job, Enemies to Lovers, Hand Job, M/M, Masterbation, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 16:47:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4270623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBeastsWrite/pseuds/TheBeastsWrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fenris comes to terms with the development in his feelings for Anders and confrontations are done!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Changes

**Author's Note:**

> Visit me on my DA blog handerstrash.tumblr.com

He was not brooding, irregardless of what Hawke stated. And he certainly was not avoiding the hanged man, or dark town or … or Anders. That’s absurd, he had no reason to fear the damn mage.

He was simply busy, avoiding slavers and trying to survive.

Oh Maker, who was he fooling. At least he should not begin to lie to himself, he was certainly avoiding the blonde. It was entirely Hawke and Isabela’s doing in any case, if the pair had simply been silent the other night then there would be none of this anxious feeling with each outing and he would be fine.

And able to concentrate, and certainly not thinking about the abomination in anyway shape, or form.

But, as usual, the two rogues simply could not help themselves, and instead of enjoying the civilized nature of which Fenris and the mage has agreed upon decided to take it one step further with inane jokes and inappropriate gestures and now … Now he found himself thinking about it. Looking when he shouldn’t, even going as far as to touch himself, stroking on lyrium coated hand over his thickening cock, his mind wondering to the argumentative companion.

Well damn it all he was not letting this occur. He hated mages, with good reason and to the pit of his stomach. It did not change his mind, no matter how much healing Anders performed, how he gave selflessly without thought of his own well being. Nor how he smiled when doing so.

The man was still a mage and Fenris couldn’t look past that, he simply couldn’t.

-

“Glad you finally got a day off from your terribly busy scheduled to follow us to Sundermount, Fen!”

“Oh isn’t it lovely, Hawke? I missed the pretty thing. Oh and all those spikes! Yummy!”

He resisted rolling his eyes by mere inches, shaking his head fondly when the Pirate made insistent ‘grabby hands’ coaxed into walking with only Hawke’s hand on her waist, the overly large man grinning easily.

“Oh yes, you should have seen Anders, he was a wreck with out you! Say, were you teaching him to brood, lately? He did a brilliant impression, right Izzy?”

“And looked damn fine doing it, magic boy.”

He froze, only a little, trying to sneak a glance at the aforementioned mage as they traipsed along the grass, taking in the pretty pink flush on the blondes cheeks in fascination. It was an odd concept to him, the idea of someone missing his company with no reason other then that they cared but it was amusing to watch as Anders stammered indignantly, reminding Hawke that he could and would give the man rabbit ears again.

He felt an odd feeling in his stomach, warm and sated and couldn’t help a twisted smirk falling onto his mouth.

“Well I could not leave the mage much longer then, we don’t want him taking on demons in spite.”

 He couldn’t help but be pleased when Isabela fell into a peal of laughter and Anders’ eyes went wide, shimmering a light gold.

“Was- was that a Joke just now?!”

“Keep walking, abomination.”

He tried not to notice how the word was sounding less like an insult and more an endearment with each time he spoke it, and if he turned away from the mages bright, teasing smile. That was his business.

-

A month or so had passed since that offending night and Fenris dropped into a chair by the hearth with a bottle of wine in hand, letting out a tired sigh.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to remind himself of what Anders was, taking in more of how the mage gifted and played and smiled about the people instead of the damage he could do with but a wave of his hand. He’d been forced, grudgingly to admit that yes, not all mages were Magisters. Though he accepted that danger came with them all.

It had been a long 6 years, and he was  willing to admit and grow now, slowly welcoming in the warmth of friendship from his company.

Still though, with each outing he seemed to find himself more comfortable with the other man, snorting at the ridiculous jokes the mage told, listening curiously to the tales of the circle. It was odd, in some aspects how much they had in common, how much he liked being able to slip a blade into a Templar’s chest and smile to the mage after, watching the glow of the fade recede into his body.

The dilemma he was experiencing was that, while he certainly accepted his feelings, it would appear that the healers had changed very little. Aside from being more welcoming to himself, and less of a preacher in his presence.

The thought saddened him, and he huffed out in amusement at the irony, pining over a mage. The maker truly did have a sick sense of humor.

Placing the bottle aside he began shedding his gauntlets and armor, rubbing absently at the fading wound to his side. Ah those damn cave spiders had a bite to them, they swarmed terrible around the group after they had taken down some slavers in the wounded coast caverns, he was already reaching for a health potion when Anders wrapped warm hands about his hips, eyes flaring brilliantly, the warm hum of magic in his blood as the mage health him, knitting skin back together.

He’d huffed a laugh when the man started ranting furiously about his idiocy, reminding him that he was not indisputable and “I don’t have the manna for this nug-shit!”

He licked his lips, pressing his palm hard into the spot, he could still feel Anders fingers against his skin, it was strange and yet … his cock stirred in his pants, lashes fluttering at the idea of where those hands could have been instead.

They were dangerous thoughts, and he tried to shake them out groaning softly when his pants tightened further.

One of those nights, then.

He’d barely slipped his fingers into the band at his waist when the front door made a brilliant banging sound and he was reaching for his sword, startled at the late night visit.

“Fenris? I came to check on your - Maker, is that a bloody corpse? That’s disgusting! Do you never clean?! That is not good for your wound - which is why I’m here … your side to … check on it.

He blinked a few times, slowly releasing his sword (he tried deftly not to think of what else he could have been holding had Anders burst in a few minutes later) looking up to the flustered mage as he appeared in his doorway, eyebrow raised high.

"Do you not knock, mage.”

“Why, would you actually answer? Doing bad things again, maybe leaving more corpses around, Fen? I mean really this is not sanitary you’re lucky I healed that cut earlier before coming back to this.”

“You know, I believe coming into someones home and proceeding to insult it, is terrible manners. Maybe you should practice, mage.”

There’s a soft chuckle to follow the words and he finds an answering smile on his lips, releasing the hilt of his sword with a low hum, settling back into the chair comfortably.

It’s silent for a short time and he drags his gaze up expecting to meet gold ones only to find flushed cheeks and a startled open mouth, following the gaze down and blinking, cheeks burning as they rested on his tented leggins.

“Right! Right, sorry I- It was rude of me to barge in, wasn’t it? Maker knows we all - well it’s your own house and, I really should be going now, shouldn’t I?”

It’s difficult to keep up with the spillage of words from the blondes mouth, raising an eyebrow at the stammer in them, the slight breathlessness at the beginning.

It was a strange night indeed but he shivered when golden eyes darkened, slipping back down to watch as his cock twitched at the sound, licking his lips to moisten them, breathing out helplessly when Anders mimicked the motion. 

The air was charged, skin tingling with the sensation that one wrong move would leave the other man running for the hills, shifting in his chair, slow as if not to startle an animal, keeping his voice low, heart hammering as he spoke. 

“Thank you for coming to check up on me, but as you can see. I am just fine.”

“Yes you  _are.”_

The sentence ends on a whine and he blushes to the tips of his ears, chastising himself for letting such a typical statement effect him so, sucking in a breath when Anders sways closer, dark eyes searching his own for a minute.

“I might, Stay? If just to make sure of that fact myself.”

He finds himself swallowing when the mage steps closer, voice tilting in question, nodding once, curt and sure. He wanted no different, though he was unsure what bought this on.

Still, not one to turn down a gift hoarse he let’s Anders move first, tilting his head up to accept the slow kiss that follows. Anders hair is soft when his fingers tangle into it, lips chapped but demanding against his own, pressing close when he lets out a little groan of delight, pushed back into the chair with one hand at his chest.

The kiss leaves his head spinning, blinking up almost dazed at a smirking mage, making a face in return, cheeks pink when skilled fingers work on his shirt, slipping it open, lips pressing to his in short little bursts, tongue licking it’s way into his mouth. 

He’s not sure when Anders stepped up to take control but he let out a little growl when cold skin his his chest and pulled back panting, pushing up from his chair, Anders backing up with a low laugh, eyes almost playful. 

He would be taking the damn mage tonight, he’s dreamed of it to much to turn down the chance. 

Anders melts against him, fingers a bruising grip on his shoulders as he tugs and twists at the mages robes, loosening the fabric and throwing it aside, body hungry and cock hard as his hips roll, grinding up against Anders’. 

The mewl it earns him has him moaning, undressing them as quickly as he can whilst he back Anders up to the wall, shivering when fingers pull at his hair and nails rake down his back, the blonde arching up from the brick and against him, mouth slack and eyes glazed.

His markings usually hurt when touched but when Anders drags a touch over them they flare to life against his skin, bright under the mages palm, tingling and heating leaving him gasping in surprise. 

“Maker, Fenris. Can I taste you?”

He has to take a moment, fist pressed to the wall at the mages head, breathing out slowly as his cock aches at the words. Nodding once, shaking when the mage grins and slides gracefully to his knees, eyes flashing blue. 

It is the spirit that all but purrs, taking his proud, stiff cock into blue cracked hands, pink tongue flicking out to trace the lyrium lines up his shaft, groaning at the taste as he whimpers at the wet heat surrounding him. 

It should put him off, but he had accepted years ago that they were a pair, Justice and his Anders working together in both life and on the battle field, he’s barely surprised the bedroom is any different. 

_“You taste like home, mortal.”_

He barely suppresses a low keen when a deeper voice leaves Anders mouth, watching in awe as his cock is swallowed down, pushing past thinned out lips, spit slick and swollen.

It is Anders who winks up at him and swallows, nose brushing the curls at his navel, leaving him curling over, pressing knuckles to brick work, one hand dropping down to pull at blonde strands, hips jerking forward.

Maker this is almost to much, the sight of the mage on his knees, moaning and writhing for his cock, his own standing proud and flushed between Anders legs, tip flaring blue when Justice pushes forward to lap at his leaking slit, sucking the tip of his cock eagerly. 

“I want to watch you fall apart.”

The words leave his mouth before he can stop them but he fucks forward, pushing into slick heat to stop a response, moaning when Anders whimpers, vibrations racing up his spine, one hand bracing against his thigh, the other dropping down to take hold of Anders cock, jerking in fast, twisting motions, desperate as the tongue against his shaft begins  _flicking._

He manages to hold back long enough to watch Anders cum, cheeks darkening, lashes fluttering, mouth pliant around his cock, back arching as his seed hits the floor beneath him, dripping down his shaft and past his balls. 

It is truly a sight to behold and it pushes him over the edge, pulling back, tip pressed to a lolling tongue, spilling onto it with a muffled curse, dropping his head between his shoulders, lyrium brands pulsing as his cock twitches, thick ropes of cum hitting the mages lips and streaking down his chin.

They would have to talk about this, he is aware but until then he drags Anders up to meet his kiss, tasting himself on the mage and pulling him close. 

The talk could wait until dawn and if he were lucky he would get to fuck into the mages pert ass and feel more of him about his cock. 

He grabs handfuls of the mages rear, kiss almost biting when Anders sighs sweetly into his lips and pushes back, sucking at his lower lip. 

He would at least have tonight. 


End file.
